Long corridors
with linoleum floors
absorb the stories
of lost lambs and hungry
wolves.
Families and enemies
pass flowered wallpaper
of peonies and terracotta pots
on ordinary days
with eyes down never speaking;
like meteors at night
and shadows during day.
The accessories, lights, exit
signs, mailboxes are destroyed
or absent.
The comingling of
time and waste
present a disturbing repertoire
of bad taste on uncommon ground.
The tenants are few. Avoidance is
survival.
There is no downtime for this
place, just a warning on the front door,
“no loitering allowed.”
Roger Singer 